Monday, December 19, 2011

A loss at any age....

I've been thinking about this since Saturday.. or maybe even way before that but I have come to realize, that the loss of a child at any age is devastating and heartbreaking.

Three years ago my grandparents lost their eldest son at the age of 49. He died of a heart attack, alone..in his motel room. He was on location; working. That man was my dad. The hurt I felt was unlike anything I have ever felt in my entire life. But the hurt and devastation I saw in my grandparents eye's was... a pain I never want to feel... ever. The loss of my dad, threw us all a curve ball. It really came out of left field. No one was expecting to hear those words "He's dead"

It has taken us all a long time to heal from that horrifically sad day. But now three years later, we are able to cope with his passing, and know that wherever he is, he is no longer suffering and is at peace.

Everyone deals with pain differently. When my dad died, I went from this happy, extrovert; to a secluded, homebody. I was probably in a funk for about 6 months. I couldn't keep it together. On the outside, I looked like a strong woman dealing with the death, but inside I was a little girl, begging god to give her back her daddy. Feeling like that scared the shit out of me. I was so vulnerable, and felt like a huge part of me died with him.

On Thursday, when we got the news that our wee babe had passed, I didn't know how to feel. I kept it together while leaving the clinic, the walk to the car, and even while driving home.Then once we got home, I lost it.

Even though, I was only 10 weeks pregnant (or so I thought) and had never met my little one, I felt a glimpse of what my grandparents felt the day my dad died. This little fetus was a part of me and C. It was our child. Regardless of it's gestational age. When we found out we were pregnant, it was from that moment on that this was our child. Our love would be never ending.

We sat in the car, and I just cried. Cried tears for the loss of our child. A child we would never meet, never hold. But a child we would always love.

For me I think the hardest part was to walk through our front door and tell my parents and sister. My mom and sister were quick to jump in and hug me and said everything will be ok. My step dad on the other hand... stood at the back of the room with sheer terror in his eyes. At that point in time, I think he was thinking; what the hell do I say to her? He had no words, he just grabbed me and gave me a huge hug. C and I both cried some more, but after that I just needed to put those feelings aside. J was concerned for me. Calling for me and he wanted to be near me. A child's intuition.

The remainder of the night consisted of not talking about the whole ordeal and just analyzing it. Again, my outside was showing a strong woman who was 'dealing' with this terrible news, but on the inside I was a grieving mother who was cursing god for taking away something that meant everything to her.

The next day I was in denial, but you would never guess that I was. Well.. maybe you would. But I put on a brave face and faced the day like any other.

Now you may be thinking "Why would you not take the time to grieve for your child" - Well, I am an emotional person, but I prefer to grieve by myself. That's just who I am as a person. There are certain times where I will/can show emotion but when it's a personal matter, I prefer to be by myself. So please know that I am grieving. This will take sometime to deal with. But I won't show emotion...

On Saturday, everything passed. My body wasn't doing what it was supposed to do, so I took some meds to get the ball rolling. It took about 6 hours for everything to be over with. 6 hours that were terrible.

I would like to say that I NEVER want to go through this again, but this happens on a daily basis. Miscarriage is very common, and can happen at any time, and any time this happens, another mother loses her child. She will grieve in her own way and on her own time. Regardless of fetal gestation, or age, a loss is a loss. When a child dies, a part of you goes with them. It doesn't matter if that person was 6 weeks old, 28 weeks old, 5 months old or 49 years old. The hurt and pain are still there.

I am thankful for every morning I wake up and see J. I have a little boy whom I would die for. The love of my life and all the joy. I am a stronger person because of this, and a better mother. I am so very lucky to be able to have children, and to be a mother. It's something I will never take for granted.

I am a mother grieving for the loss of her second child. To my sweet babe whom I have not met, we love you, and will always miss you.